When We Met
by Up-Past-Midnight
Summary: Every boy band has its boys, and every boy has his friends, and how those friends meet is decided solely by fate. And fate works in the most creative of ways when bringing together four best friends. No slash.
1. How Carlos Met Logan

**A/N:** Hey, guys! Here goes my first multi-chapter story, even though it's merely a series of drabbles. There isn't really any _romance _going on in this series of drabbles, just _lots _of friendship and loving and togetherness. _Lots_. I hope you guys enjoy it! Reviews are love!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush, Lays, or Minnesota. I could take over the world if I did, though. You know me.

**

* * *

**

Logan had moved a total of seventeen times throughout his short life. Seventeen god dammed times. And on his latest, his father promised him for the first time they wouldn't move again, and that Minnesota was a good place to live. He didn't know if he should have believed either.

Logan had taught himself one thing after his seventeenth move: _make no friends, make no promises_. Lately, that's been his moral. That's the one phrase that made him keep his sanity, and sadly, his unimpressed demeanor. He had big goals in mind- grow up, become a doctor, make lots of cash. He thought to himself, _nowhere in that plan requires making a friend_. Friends, to him, started to become obstacles. Distractions. Simple, unneeded things that directors made movies about to make money. He never believed that a group of girls that mailed around good luck pants actually existed, nor did he buy into corporate American bullshit.

But the real reason friends were like poison to him was because after seventeen moves, a little boy like Logan learns to shut the world away. Logan was a fast learner. He made himself solitary, a lone wolf in a large pack of other wolves, each symbiotically leeching off the other. He, though, walked the halls of his new middle school as the quiet genius. He sat through first, second, and third period, silent, watching the teachers lecture away on that boring first day of school. He sat and thought about his parents- what more could a friendless nobody think about? His constantly-being-promoted father, his workaholic mother. It was a sad life, being an only child was.

Set justly in between the first three periods of the day, and the last three, lunch time seemed like an escape from work to other students, but to Logan, it was another few minutes at school he spent thinking. Unpacking his brown-bag lunch, he happened upon a tuna sandwich, a bright yellow banana, a bag of barbecue Lays, and a box of chocolate milk. He laid out his lunch before him, and dug in. Another typical mid-day meal in another typical school.

But what landed in front of him had to be one of the most un-typical things that may have ever happened to him.

There it sat, young and croaking, a verdant little Minnesota frog. It was as if it was staring at him, and Logan gulped down his tuna sandwich and stared at it with a quizzical look. But after the frog, came bounding another un-typical something, this time a young boy. Logan surveyed his new subject, the boy's midnight black hair, clumped flat under a shiny, new, black helmet, caramel skin and matching eyes. The boy gently placed his re-captured frog in the jar of water he held as it fidgeted for freedom.

The boy looked up, eyes locking onto Logan's. "Oh, hi."

Logan's voice trailed, "...hi." It was as if he had never met a person in his life before. But speaking did feel somewhat weird, having said absolutely nothing since he woke up the morning of that school day.

"I'm Carlos." His bright, wide smile made Logan instantly know that this boy was optimistic and open to others. He looked as if he jumped from buildings and breaking a bone was another name for evidence that he was the biggest risk-taker ever. "What's your name?"

"...Logan." Logan replied quietly, surveying Carlos's outfit. A crimson tee shirt wrapped snug around his body, and a pair of blue jeans. He was in style, too, as far in style as thirteen-year-old boys came.

"Well, it's cool to meet ya, Logan. Do you mind if I sit with you today? Both of my friends are out sick, and we're both somewhat alone." Carlos offered, his beaming grin tempting Logan to make friends. But on that temptation, Logan knew he had to jet. He couldn't afford to be hurt again after making a good friend and having to leave them like always.

Logan instantly stood up, rushing to collect his books, and utter out an excuse. "I've got to get to study hall thanks for offering bye." Logan instantly rushed out of the lunchroom, leaving Carlos to eat alone. Admittedly, he felt guilty for leaving a nice kid like Carlos to eat alone with his frog and his helmet.

But he _had _to shake that thought. He couldn't just _make a friend_ and then end up having to move again. This _wasn't _part of the plan.

* * *

That afternoon, Logan was exiting through the back doors of the school, wandering the back parking lot, where the buses parked. He scanned the row of vehicles and found his bus- bus number eight, and approached it. Boarding, he looked out upon the bus, crammed to the brim with teenagers, and what do you know-

The last empty seat next to the one and only _Carlos_. Logan sighed at the signs that God was giving him, and decided that there was no other choice. He approached with a smile, sat down, and listened as Carlos began telling him about his frog named Roger, and his life story. With every word Carlos said, the two got more and more closer as friends, and the more Logan was tempted to actually give in and become Carlos's friend.

But when he was that close to bursting, letting Carlos know _his own _life story, Logan's stop had arrived, and he split like an atom, right out of the bus, leaving Carlos in the dust, and again, feeling that itching guilt within his stomach.

He couldn't make another friend. He just _couldn't._

_

* * *

_

The following lunch day, he decided to spend it alone in the school's library, catching up on his latest favorite subject: Greek Mythology. As he took slow bites out of his lunch, he began to soak up so few information, his mind occupied by Carlos. _God no_, Carlos certainly wasn't Logan's love interest, but he damn near may as well have been because Carlos was all Logan was thinking about. Carlos was merely a good person Logan wanted to make friends with, deep in his subconscious, even though he wouldn't admit it to himself.

And who better than to test Logan's belief in God than Carlos, who appeared from the deep crevices of the nonfiction section of the library.

Finding his book, Carlos smiled that wide grin, took his book out of the shelf, and walked out next to the table where Logan was, passing by. Carlos shot him somewhat of an awkward look, paused for a second, and shook his head in dismay. He then trudged out of the library.

And for the first time, Logan knew how Carlos felt when in the cafeteria the first day they met.

* * *

That night, Logan couldn't take it for another minute. He sat, watching the clock tick away, the darkness devour his room, the moon's dim blue light tickling his bedsheets. Why he couldn't sleep, he tried to tell himself he didn't know, but it was obvious. Carlos.

He decided to take this time and bask in the late summer evenings, grabbing his coat, and silently sneaking out his front door, hoping not to wake his parents. Though, since the two were constantly working, they were deep sleepers. So deep, in fact, they entrusted him with warning them of a house fire. But he walked out in his overcoat and pajamas, then softly to the park nearby. He stayed bundled up, wandering the dark neighborhood in his thoughts. The night was pleasant, and he swore he could hear his thoughts speaking to him.

_Just go. Just talk to him. No, don't you dare talk to him, you know what would happen. Oh, take a chance. You may not leave. Dad promised you we won't move again, for the first time, that's got to count for something. But you never know, though! You may leave! _

He just wished he wasn't so smart. So for once, he could be like a normal kid and not know what to do. Maybe then, the naivety would drive him to making Carlos a close friend of his.

As he approached a bench, Logan found himself watching the stars glimmer before him, a whole mess of light just scattered before him. It was then when a sudden voice appeared from the distance behind him. "Hey." It greeted politely.

Instantly, he turned around to find who else but Carlos, also standing in his pajamas and overcoat on that evening. Logan sighed, and found himself replying. "Hi."

"Why are you up so late?" Carlos approached, and took a seat on the bench aside from him.

"...um, insomnia." Logan replied simply.

"My friend Kendall says that means... you can't sleep. Or something like that?" Carlos had a somewhat guilty look in his eye, maybe guilty of sounding stupid.

"Yeah, that's right."

"Well, I have the same feeling as you."

Logan felt tense, as he stood up slowly and began his descent home. He felt himself relating to Carlos, which meant one thing: he had to leave. "Maybe I should go, I mean, get some sleep, we've got school in the morn-"

"Logan, am I missing something?" Carlos froze Logan in his tracks, and forced him to spin back around to his direction. "I know I'm not the smartest kid in the whole school, but I can tell when somebody doesn't like me, and if you don't, just say so. You seem like a good friend, and I really want to be friends, but if you have a problem with me, just tell me, okay? I'm a big boy. I can take it."

"It's not that, it's just-" Logan attempted to explain.

"It's not _what?_" Carlos said, his face struggling and almost disappointed-looking. A disappointed impression on a face like Carlos's was hard to register. "Because it seems like I've got something wrong with me."

"No, no, Carlos, you're a good person, okay? In fact, you're cool. Very cool. It's just that... my father. My father moves the family a lot. It's hard for me to open up to a person. It's just hard. Okay? I'm sorry, but I can't." Logan turned away and began walking once more, but after a few steps were taken, a tugging at his arm stopped him.

"Is that it?" Carlos now stared him in the face. "Is that what you're worried about?" Carlos almost choked back a chuckle.

"...yeah."

"Well. If you move or not, know this. You've got friends everywhere- and a very good one here in Minnesota. Even if you move to Florida, even if you move to freaking _Cambodia_, you've got me, right here in Minnesota, alright?" Carlos smiled, his typical wide grin making Logan want to smile, too.

After a moment of silence, Logan decided. _Fuck it all. Dad said we weren't moving anymore, so I guess we're not. Carlos is your new best friend. Deal with it. Haha._ Logan's thoughts led him to smile and reply with a simple, "so I heard you guys like hockey here in Minnesota."

Carlos snickered as the two began walking, a pair of newly united best friends, and Logan started to begin to believe that he was never moving away again.


	2. How Logan Met Kendall

**A/N: **Um, sorry if this one's a bit odd. It's like, two in the morning, and I attempted to write it all out before I forgot it for the last hour or so. It was fun to write though. Hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own whatever you assume I don't, which includes Starry Night, Carlos, James, Kendall, and Logan, as they belong to somebody else who isn't me. Just making that clear.

* * *

Kendall was sitting next to a, simply put, _geek_.

Carlos was telling him and James about this new kid he made friends with while he was taking a few sick days from school to recover from a bad cold- unluckily, Carlos had broken his arm and James, who had received the cold from him, had one more day to stay home-

Funnily, the last day he had to be out of class was the day a casting director came to town, seeking new talent, and also the day his science class was heading to the local museum. They had a lesson in paleontology, and James would come last in line at a chance to mess up his hair. Kendall believed he may have shaken his picky attitude by the time they got older, but at the intensity his habits were going now, it was a shot in the dark. But he sat on the bus next to this scrawny kid, and he remembered what Carlos was telling him.

_"He's a bit shy, I mean, he didn't open up to me right away." _Kendall figured that whoever doesn't open up to Carlos's warm smile right away _had _to be mentally disturbed. The boy (who Carlos never told him the name of) didn't look like bipolar, or anti-social, or like a schizophrenic. Just a typical, happy kid, clicking away at his calculator and writing down various times, placed next to errands. Most likely a to-do list. Kendall decided to try Carlos's word and talk to the kid.

"A to-do list?" Kendall instantly felt like he was trying to impress this kid. _Of course it's a to-do list, you idiot. Way to make the smart kid think less of your intelligence._

The boy glanced over and smiled a small smile. He nodded, then continued clicking away at the planned schedule.

"I see you have..." Kendall tried to look interested, going down the list. _Try out for math decathlon, go to youth's medical seminar, study at library, buy hockey sticks, Janine's birthday, science fair... wait. _"Buy hockey sticks?" It suddenly wasn't so hard to sound interested. "You play hockey?"

"Uh, only a few times when I was living in Maine for a bit." He fiddled with the edge of his to do list nervously, etched in his notebook, as if talking to a king. Kendall certainly wasn't the most popular kid in school, but some girls did like him, and his name was heard around once in a while on campus, so the boy's nerves were understandable.

"Way cool! You're trying out for the team, right?" Kendall beamed.

"Uh, I don't know... maybe next year, in high school. I need to get better than I am now before I expect to make the team." The boy's smile slowly melted. "I have a pond that freezes over in the winter in my backyard, so if I practice by myself, once a day..." He began to count. "I'll be good about three days before the expected try-outs next year, which I heard is a winter sport."

"What if you had a partner?" Kendall offered his service subtly. He didn't want to appear too forward. "That would throw off your equation completely, now wouldn't it?"

"A _partner_? That would increase my learning rate by-" He began counting again, and turned over his to-do list to a blank page, where he began etching out numbers quickly. This dude was _smart_.

"What if you had... say,_ three _partners?" Kendall's face grew to a smirk. With a bit of convincing, James would agree to (reluctantly) helping this boy, and Carlos was down with absolutely anything, and seeing how he already told himself he enjoyed this boy's presence, Carlos was hands-down ready to train him.

"_Three _partners? That will bump me up to getting good enough to making it on _this _years team- but... where am I supposed to find three partners? I have no idea who anybody is around here." He paused his intense work.

"Well, I was hoping you'd let-" Kendall was cut short by his teacher, who began the whole safety speech as they arrived at the museum.

"The person you are seated with is your buddy- stick with your buddy and make sure they stay with the group. You two are a team. Stay safe. I'll explain the rest of the rules as we step out." Their teacher explained, as the class stood and sluggishly, the bus emptied of teens. They were standing out on the prominent staircase of the museum as the bus turned a corner, finding a place to park. Kendall decided to mimic his buddy's actions and actually pay attention to their teacher's lecture.

Kendall noticed that his friend was so silent, and so intrigued by the various exhibits in the museum. He looked almost disappointed when their teacher skipped parts of the fine arts, but seemed to make up for that loss whenever their teacher lectured about the fossils. Kendall could tell that he either loved to learn, or the teacher was attractive to him. But their teacher was about sixty, and _looked_ about seventy, so he didn't assume his second assumption was true.

"Alright, free time." Their teacher announced. "Please stay within museum grounds. To make sure you do, security officers will be at the front. And by all means, _feel free to learn something_. Oh, and remain with your buddy. Meet me back here in one hour, or detentions will be readily available!"

The pairs walked off, and Kendall and his buddy wandered. He began spewing facts about the random exhibits. "_That_ is a replica of the painting _Starry Nights, _created by Vincent Van Gogh in 1889. It was heavily influenced by Lord Rosse's sketch of the whirlpool galaxy, which was first drawn in 1845, forty-four years before Van Gogh painted his piece."

Kendall was actually intrigued, replying with, "Interesting. Wish I could paint like that." He longed for something to intelligent to say. But as the two wandered farther and farther into the museum, they came across a section of the museum hidden behind a door. The sign above it read Pop Culture History. Kendall thought to himself, _perfect. Popular stuff. Something we can both talk about. _They opened the door that was slightly propped ajar by a small, wooden door stop, which they set aside.

They walked in, opening the glass door, and shutting it behind them, the click of the door ringing in the hall. As they looked around, surveying, they saw that all the exhibits were covered in canvas tarps. It was peculiar.

"Oh, this must be that new wing the gee..." He caught himself before he said _geek_, "...guys in history class were talking about. Oh, well. Let's go back."

"Wait a second. If the wing isn't finished..." His friend instantly turned around. "Then the doors must be..."

He shook the long, steel handle, trying to open it, but the door wouldn't budge. The two looked at each other in unison. Simultaneously, they muttered, "..._locked_."

* * *

"Oh, crap, oh, crap, oh, crap, what do we do? _What do we do? _We've searched all over this hallway! No way out!" The boy paced, trying to figure a way out. He seemed to be running out of options, and considering how logistic he was, having no options never seemed to occur to him often. "We're gona be trapped in here. I've never gotten a detention in my life, that is if we do get out."

"We're gona get out. Just calm down and think about this, alright?" Kendall reasoned. "You're extremely smart, you've shown me today, and my friends say that I've got a good sense of leadership. Put those two together, and you've got yourself a grade-a team. We can find a way out of this place."

"Obviously banging on the door and screaming help didn't work."

"_Yeah_, this isn't the most happening place in town."

"_Now _it is! I can see the headlines now, 'Two Boys Die of Hunger, Trapped Inside New Wing.' All of Minnesota's going to be talking about it."

"You forgot to add in the headline pun about chicken wings." Kendall chuckled. The boy froze, looked at him with an absurd face, and then busted out in laughter. "You see? Never let life give you a reason not to smile."

"Alright, alright." He sighed. "I'm calm. What do you propose we do to get out of here?"

"Um... let's see." Kendall began pacing slowly. "There are no windows, both entrances to this hallway are locked, and we don't want to get arrested for property damage, so breaking open the doors is a worst-case scenario."

"And _this _isn't?"

"A worst-case scenario would be if zombies were upon us." Kendall continued. "My mom took away my cell phone, and yours gets no signal. All we have to eat is the bubble gum in my pocket, and the air vents aren't working."

"Say that last part again." His friend had a thinking kind of face on.

"The air vents aren't working. But how does that-" His buddy instantly broke his quote when he began pulling a ladder from the corner of the hallway nearby. Instantly, Kendall realized it all. "Duh! How could we be so naive?" Kendall smiled, as he watched his friend climb the ladder and inspect the wide air vent shield. He ran his finger onto the screws of the vent.

"There has to be a screwdriver here somewhere." He came down from the ladder. "Let's go find one."

* * *

After finding the screw driver, and slipping into the vent, the two were crawling through, searching for the closest opening. They were going and down through the maze of the wide, stainless steel vents, praying for any form of freedom. They began to panic, as they continually stressed over the time, Logan calculated the estimated collection time of their class.

"We've got about fifteen seconds before teach begins calling roll. We're not technically tardy until we hear our names." Behind him, his friend commented. Inside, Kendall thought to himself, _Good, there's a lot of names before me. No telling for... what's his name over here, though._

"Only fifteen seconds?" Kendall exclaimed, bringing up the pace of his crawl.

"Fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven, twelve..."

"_Not helping_."

"Sorry."

They crawled on, until they heard their teacher call out, "Alright kids. Roll call!" Muffled from a tunnel in the vents. Kendall listened carefully. "Mia Abraham."

"Here!" Mia chirped. Kendall followed the sound and began taking much more of a leading stride in his crawl, signifying he knew the way perfectly. Their teacher began going down the list, and they soon entered J's territory from the attendance sheet. He could feel himself getting closer to the vent opening. _You'd think they'd have more vents in such a cold museum._ Kendall muttered to himself, looking back occasionally to check if his buddy was keeping up fine. He was, luckily.

"Erik Jarrett." Their teacher called.

Erik responded with a, "Here!"

"Hurry!" Kendall announced, "The openings right _there_." It was within his eye line now.

"Dana Johnson."

"Here!"

They were so close, as they began terribly rushing towards the hole in the vent. "Screwdriver!" Kendall had his hand held out to the back, as his follower handed him the screwdriver, and they slid slyly to the vent, quickly turning the bolts on the corners to escape.

"Kayla Karlson."

"Here!"

Dropping, the two clumsily fell upon the tile, on their feet to their knees, slowly rubbing at their agonizing bruises, simultaneously darting towards the group in the prehistoric section.

"Kendall Knight." Their teacher called, and just in time, Kendall bounced into the group.

"Here!" He said through heavy pants and turned calmly to his friend to offer a high-five. Gladly obliging, they exchanged a look that told each other that they made a great team. Their teacher continued on with the list, and they stood idly, although not saying any words, their heavy breaths and laughs were just enough to convey the message that the two now were best friends.

"You know..." Kendall finally said, rubbing one last time at his bruised knee. "... I never got your name."

"Logan Mitchell." Their teacher chimed in.

"Here." He raised his hand, then extended it to Kendall's reach. "Logan Mitchell."

As their teacher finished their roll call, she led the kids out to the front of the museum steps to load back onto the bus. Logan began conversation, "So, you're _the _Kendall Knight? You know my friend Carlos then..."

"Yeah, me and him go way back..." Kendall put his arm around Logan's shoulder, about to deal a proposition. "So what do you say about three hockey partners…"


	3. How James Met Carlos

**A/N: **This one is really kind of shorter than the others. I'm sorry for that. Again, it's very late and I'm getting impatient. Even though it's Saturday night, and I've got nothing else to do, sitting at my office gets me a little peeved if I'm not doing something else at the same time. This, though, was something I _needed_ to get down before anything else.

**Important: **Each of these chapters is set at a different time period. So, it's not really a consecutive storyline. In this chapter, none of the boys knew Logan yet. Not _yet_, keyword _yet_. It's set in the fifth grade. Oh, and my oneshot _Cookies_ never happened in _When We Met_. Okay? Okay. I just thought you guys may have been a bit confused if you read this without an explanation._ I also apologize for spelling, grammar and/or punctuation errors. I'm just too lazy to do any revising right now._ Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **Big Time Rush is not mine, nor will it ever be. I don't plan on owning them anytime soon, nor making money off of them in any way. The day I do is the day all of we fanfiction writers finally get what we want.

* * *

James was alone much of his life. Very much alone. His father was a corporate businessman, the type to head to work during sunrise hours and head back home for the sole reason to sleep for an approximate eight hours, then return to work. His mother, too, was a workaholic, only she would leave for weeks and weeks on end. His older brother, having been better than him at possibly anything went to school in another country and wasn't exactly fond of him. The overall equation came down to this: facetiously hard-to-impress parents plus over-achieving successful brother equals little brother left with the pain of only being second rate to _everybody_. Facetiously hard-to-impress parents minus over-achieving successful brother equals opportunity to shine and facetiously hard-to-impress parents suddenly becoming even more facetiously hard-to-impress. Following? _Didn't think so_.

Bottom line, what James really wanted was _appreciation_.

James was alone much of his life until he met Kendall. Kendall was a kind boy. He loved protecting nice people, and had much practice of it after his mother became single and his little sister was born. Kendall and James spent practically every waking moment with each other from the day they met in the first grade, but when Kendall fractured one of his bones in a region that should remain unspoken and James had limited times with Kendall, as his father was actually home and didn't condone he being out late (as if he should have cared.) So James, for the longest time, was completely alone once again since the first grade. It was something he grew out of.

He remembered Mrs. Knight saying that Kendall's wound would heal in an approximation of one month. So for a month, James had suffered the loneliest nights by himself for the longest time. James tried telling himself that Kendall would heal whenever the wave of pain would shudder by, reminding him he was alone for the time being, but it didn't stop him from crying to himself. It was _not _okay for an eleven-year-old boy to be crying, but the fact that he wasn't supposed to made him feel horrible about crying, which made him want to cry more. Kendall was his _appreciation_. Kendall was, for lack of a less mushy term, what he needed. Kendall supported his singing dream, protected him from the jokes and put-downs, made sure he wasn't hurt. But who could do that with a fractured... _whatever-it-was?_

So he spent the rest of that summer alone. He packed his father's bags (which he needed for a business trip) alone. He walked to the mall with his one hundred dollars that his father left him for back-to-school things alone. He made himself dinner alone. And he came to the first day of school... alone. And the last time he checked, nobody in the history of _ever_ wanted to spend the milestone of the first day of sixth grade alone.

* * *

First period was the longest period of the day, not to mention the toughest. The first day of school and already they were conducting chemical experiments in protective green aprons and smudged goggles and the beakers with colorful liquids and the works. The thing he was most peeved about that day though was the fact that he was, again, alone, and was forced to conduct the experiment by himself. His lab partner was nowhere to be found, that is, if he even truly had one. He picked up the beaker by the directions laying flat on his desk, and poured it carefully into the flask, the water quickly turning a bright blue. He almost smiled.

It was then when the science door swung open, and a young Hispanic boy stride in. He could very well have been the most confident kid he had ever seen since the last time he looked in the mirror. He donned a striped sweater, sleeves pulled up to his elbows, and blue jeans to match with his shoes. But the piece of fashion that threw him off was a helmet nestled carefully on his head, the straps undone, his unorganized books and papers crumpled in his grip.

"Class!" Their professor called. "May I have your attention?"

"I'm Carlos!" The new boy waved happily, taking the teacher's spotlight. His smile was wide and his impression was so bright and inviting, but the others didn't seem to think he was that cool. You could see his smile from miles away, and no one seemed to want to pay attention. He slowly removed his hat and the smile remained on his face, no matter how many times the others scoffed.

"Yes, and Mr. Garcia here needs a lab partner. Is anybody vacant?" Their professor giggled slightly at Carlos's pep.

James slowly and nervously lifted his hand up. Carlos instantly bounded in his direction, almost about to wet himself in excitement. James was apprehensive. Approaching, Carlos began his boisterous introduction. "My name's Carlos, but you probably already figured that out."

"I'm James. It's nice to meet you." James shot an awkward and forced smile, then instantly it faded as he continued with his experiment. "Here are the directions. We're on step twelve." He slid over the piece of paper.

"Twelve of thirty seven? This school's high end." Carlos inspected the direction sheet with a disgusted demeanor. He then looked like he was struggling, like the words were getting harder and harder to read. Which they probably were.

"I don't make the rules." James replied matter-of-factly.

"Haha, I guess. Well hey, when you've got to, you've got-" Carlos instantly picked up the flask that James had a solvent in, and shook it around violently. The solvent flew everywhere, staining Carlos, James, and their surrounding area in the far corner of their science lab.

James shouted in anger, "What the hell, man? Don't you know _anything?"_

Carlos attempted to stutter out an apology when their teacher approached. "James, we don't use that language in sci- what _happened _here?"

"This assh- this _kid_ spilled this _stuff _on me." James accused angrily.

Carlos was biting back tears, thinking, _Oh, no, I've done it again. I ruined another chance at making friends. I'll never fit in. Oh, god, I'm so stupid! Why? Why, why, why, why, why?_

Their professor quickly sent them down to the nurse's office, which she said was a safety-precaution type thing, even though the solvent was just typical baking soda and lemon juice. They weren't certified to wear the clothes they were wearing anymore, so while in the nurse's bathroom, they changed their clothes. It was awkward being naked in front of each other, but the two managed to get their gym clothes on, delivered to them by a student aid. Carlos kept a frantic yet depressed look, as if he lost a puppy, and James tried his best not to speak with him. Carlos made it easy, not saying anything, probably at a lack of words.

James, though, caught Carlos's young, worried face in his line of vision, and somehow, he couldn't pull himself to be angry anymore.

* * *

James laid in bed that night, Carlos's face embedded into his mind. He couldn't shake the fact that it was he who made somebody that unhappy. His true goal in life was to do just the opposite, to make people happy, whether it was if he made it on a movie role, if he made it on tour, if he got a recording contract, he was going to make people happy. He looked back and didn't really make Carlos too happy in science.

He then thought back to Kendall, a person who hadn't come to his thoughts since Carlos showed up. Kendall gave him care and all sorts of love, plenty of friendship and support. Most of all, appreciation. He didn't give Carlos much appreciation. He didn't appreciate the fact that Carlos was excited to be meeting a new person. He didn't appreciate that Carlos may have been a bit reckless, through no fault of his own. He began to wonder more about himself. If he couldn't give Carlos a bit of appreciation, how much was he giving _Kendall_?

He knew he had to apologize.

It was too bad that he didn't really know how to.

The next day in first period, James had a giant lump in his throat. He knew it was his obligation to make Carlos happy, as a soon-to-be star. His wouldn't like the other stars in the walk of fame. His would somehow shine brighter. And he couldn't do that until he felt like every person out there was smiling because of him, whatever it was he did to touch others' lives. This was his way to make Carlos happy.

And the only way to do that was apologize. It couldn't be _that _hard. Carlos was definitely feeling guilty, so, hell, wasn't it he who would have been fumbling to apologize. It would be cake... right?

But easy it was not-

"Hey, Carlos." James greeted, not happily, but not gloomily or angrily either. Just a casual salute and a quick seat.

Carlos looked at him briefly and flicked his head, no smile on his face. In fact, borderline on a frown. James quickly replied, "What's the lesson today." All Carlos did was point to the board with the lesson plan written clearly. James felt the silent treatment finally setting in, no emotional Novocain to numb the feeling.

"Look, Carlos." James said, his voice teeming with sympathy. "I was..."

Carlos looked back and tilted his head in concern, his eyes wishing for forgiveness.

"I was a jerk." James finally uttered out under breath, trying not to interrupt class, which had just begun. "A big one. I mean, you're reckless, and crazy, and easily excitable, and you're... really very a cool person. I shouldn't have been such an ass to you. Now, can you wipe that sad look off your face before I lose any more sleep?"

Carlos looked at him with wide eyes, blinked, and a smile broke out on his face, wide and grinning. "Why are _you_ sorry?" Carlos confessed, "Like you said, I'm reckless. Crazy. I should really watch where I'm going."

"No, no you shouldn't. At least, you don't have to. Not anymore."

Carlos's face tilted more, as he looked concerned. "Why not?"

"You've got _me _now." He was there to watch Carlos's step for him, and James knew that he was for once, giving appreciation instead of receiving it. Whenever Kendall had a broken whatever, he could go to Carlos. Whenever Carlos got in trouble, he could go to Kendall. He had _both _now.

And James never felt alone again.


	4. How Logan Met James

**A/N: **I apologize about how short it is. I also apologize for historical inaccuracy. I forgot that it was a Tuesday on September 11. I can't believe I forgot that. I was even in homeroom when it happened. But I had already written it that Kendall was at home when it happened, so just like, imagine he stayed home for a certain reason, or he went home early from school or something. Again, sorry it's so short. _This one's dedicated to all the people who sacrificed something on September 11th. They have my utmost respect and gratitude. _On a brighter note, this is the point in which the boys come together! Yay!_  
_

**Disclaimer: **Only the plot is mine. The boys and Dairy Queen are not. Great. Now I want ice cream.

* * *

Kendall and Carlos were strolling in the park next to James. Neither really had no idea how to react to James's demeanor. A blank one, faded and uncertain. His step was sluggish and weak. And before they had left, Kendall and Carlos recalled embracing their best friend and feeling the tears run down their shoulders, the shivers rebounding off of their skin. Kendall suggested they take a peaceful walk in the park, to leave the news hype, to forget what happened just an hour ago. But neither expected for James to be as silent as he should have been. Fourth graders as naive as they wouldn't have gotten over a crisis like this too quickly.

They rested at a bench nearest the prominent fountain shot up in the middle, piercing the blue sky. The sun was a glowing sight, golden and shining, the skies were clear and consuming, blue and beautiful. The birds flew by and sung along with the slight breeze, the flowers dancing and the butterflies jumping up and down from bush to bush. It was probably the most horrible spring day the three had ever experienced.

James still remained silent, pondering so many questions. Kendall slung his arm around James and continually whispered, "I'm so sorry, Jamie. I'm so sorry." Kendall bit his lip to fight back tears, Carlos leaning his head on James's shoulder. The two never felt James so weak. They never saw him so raw and afraid. At school on a typical day, James would run out to play during recess and Kendall and Carlos, who both were sadly placed in another class, would always find him hanging upside down from the pull-up bars and practicing his voice. James didn't mope, nor did he dwell on something horrible for too long. Today was different, though.

As a pretty young boy, he received many of insults, but he never really took too much of it as an offense, brushing the insults off his shoulder. Kendall loved the way James did that. Always so ignorant to peoples' words with intentions of hurting him. If Kendall was insulted, he would instantly rage out against the offender. James would not.

But today-

Today was just a bad day. _Why?_

The day was September 11, 2001. Kendall was shaken, for sure, but he thanked his lucky stars his immediate family was with him on that day. Katie curled up in his arms as they watched the news earlier that day, asking one too many questions about the planes and the big buildings and the scary gray air. Their mother sat on the couch, her hand clutched over her mouth, and her eyes wide and frightened. Kendall nestled Katie tight, clutching her to get her to stop before he burst out crying.

Carlos was with his dad earlier that day, who wrapped him tight in his embrace, telling him that those men and women out on the line of duty were people he should respect. He told them they were there to save people. But Carlos already knew that.

But James, that day, was alone. He told Kendall and Carlos about his father, who was away on a business trip in Denver, wasn't even there to smack him and tell him to stop crying. His mother, though, his beautiful, caring mother, was a fireman, and died at an attempt to evacuate people internally as much as possible. He never felt so much love for that woman before that day. She was a hero. But James that day was _alone_.

Kendall and Carlos saw it as his obligation to sit comforting his friend, making sure the pain would fade. But he still shook. He still cried. He still hurt from his insides.

"Jamie." Kendall repeated. "I'm sorry." He was literally at a loss of words. He believed not a soul could relate to him at this point. "Hey, you stay at my house tonight, okay? We can't have you alone. 'Specially not on a day like this."

James looked up at Kendall. He nodded, and attempted a smile. The broken face he wore caused Kendall's heart drop next to his kidney, as he took him back into the tight hug. James kept crying.

Kendall and Carlos gave in, and finally, they cried, too.

* * *

The next morning, James was sent home immediately. The Knight family had to pack instantly for a trip to visit a family in New York to comfort them. Carlos was unable stay the night, as his father told him to accompany him to a fireman's honor festival, also in New York, so he was expected to stay home and pack. James understood and went home. He could almost see a murderous look on Kendall's face beamed towards his mother, who forced him to go when his best friend needed him most, which was rare to see. Carlos gave his father the same murderous look. Kendall and Carlos loved their parents, but they seemed downright enraged. But James ensured that he'd be okay for a week and he promised that by the time the Knight and Garcia family returned he would have gotten over the remorse, and ordered both to not fight with their parents. James would return to his normal goings-on and things would get back on track. Kendall and Carlos cried a bit each, received an embrace, and the pain burned on.

James sat in his room the next day, his father still not home, his mother still embedded in his thoughts. He sat in front of his window, watching the spring day happen before him. He longed for the company of his best friends but shook his head to forget them for the time they were away, and focus on developing his career in the music business.

He moved to his bed nearby and pulled the covers over him, closing his eyes at an attempt to sleep. _So much for developing my career_, he thought cleverly to himself.

But the doorbell rang, and he slowly rose, hiked down the stairs, and reluctantly opened the door. He half-expected it to be Kendall and Carlos, who would hug him, and they would play video games all day, and maybe his dropped heart would pick back up, and though his mother would forever be remembered, but maybe he would finally move on and not remain in the misery surrounding him.

But it wasn't Kendall.

Before him stood a short, young pale boy, with chocolate brown eyes, and jet black hair, a broken disposition strewn across his profile. He must have been new because James had never seen him before. He didn't even look James in the eye. "Hi, I'm Logan and I'm raising money for a charity to help orphaned children whose parents died a few days ago." He referred to the nation's dark day.

"My parents aren't home. I don't really think I should give any money away..." James said, remorse fleeing from his tone.

"Mine are too." Logan had a half-hearted smile across his face.

"Well. I'm James, by the way. Sorry about your parents. And I'm really sorry I can't help." He looked at Logan like he had to close  
the door on a dying puppy.

"It's okay." Logan walked off with a sorrowed step.

James knew he had to find Logan again. He was new to the neighborhood, though, and who knows where he lived, really? James sat in his room, and for the first time, he realized that it was Logan that had taken over his thoughts. He wondered why Logan's parents were away, like his.

He wondered if Logan was just being overly sensitive, or did the disaster truly impact him to lead him to looking clinically depressed. He wondered if Logan wanted to be his friend.

* * *

James found Logan again, strolling the neighborhood for his small charity, the same expression on his face from when he saw him yesterday. James, too, hadn't smiled since the disaster, but his heart was slowly rising once more. He strolled in his typical clothes, having not gone to school that day, as he took some of his emergency money left by his father, and went to get a vanilla from the neighborhood Dairy Queen. The kids made fun of him there, as always, but he was too impaled by the thought of his mother to even give them a slick of attention.

He almost wanted to give each of those kids a slug to the face, having been such insensitive bastards on a week so horrible as the one the entire nation was enduring.

But he decided that karma would want the punch more than James did, so he left, feeling good that he was a bigger person enough to leave. He wouldn't want knocking a person out in a Dairy Queen leaked to the media when he finally made it big. This would benefit him later. Now, he was walking along the sidewalks of his neighborhood when he came across Logan, who looked twice as bad as he did yesterday. Logan's step was reduced to a drag, and he slowly walked across the cement.

"Hey, Logan, right?" James stopped him.

Logan nodded, half depressed and half questioned.

"You know, you look awfully sad. I take it was because of 9/11." He walked with Logan, going the opposite way of where he was going. James wasn't always the type to suddenly approach acquainted strangers, but with Kendall gone, James needed somebody, something he could relate to. Logan was a prime example.

"Yeah." Logan looked down as the two walked in sync. "My mom."

"_Your mom__?_ Did she die?" James asked sympathetically.

"No, no she didn't." Logan admitted, a tear streaking his cheek. "But, they don't even care. Not about me. They're always leaving for business trips, and even on a day like this, they don't even want to be with me, and. And I- I'm rambling. Sorry."

James went silent suddenly realizing that Logan and he had so much more in common, then after a few minutes, he finally took Logan's wrist, and ran him back to his house, all the while, Logan yelping, _"Where are we going?"_

After arriving at James' prominent home a few blocks away, he gave Logan the rest of his emergency money, $495 dollars total. Logan looked at the wad, dumbfounded. "James, I-"

"Shut up. Take the money." James almost felt a smile evolving on his face. "My dad left it for me to buy food, but I've got plenty of that, and my friend Kendall gets back in a week, so they'd feed me if I run out of things to eat. Just take the money. Give it to that charity."

Logan smiled. It was probably the shyest smile James had ever seen, but it was a nice smile nonetheless. And for the first since the disaster, James smiled, too.

* * *

Soon enough, James and Logan got closer, and after a while, Kendall returned alongside Carlos. The day of the honor funeral in their small town, James, Logan, Carlos, and Kendall went together. They had a ceremony, thanking and paying respects to everyone that sacrificed something that day, and the four cried together, wishing they hadn't. Boys _weren't _supposed to cry, especially not on each others' shoulders; at least that's what they grew up learning.

But Kendall began to speak. "Hey, guys. Let's not cry anymore. Let's be sad that people died, sure, let's be angry that life is so unfair, but let's be happy that, no matter how much we've lost, that we've got each other. And if anything ever happens like this again, let's make sure the four of us are the last ones standing."

The others smiled brightly again, and they left the ceremony to sit on the bench at the park. This bench meant a lot, the three realized, and that it was a lucky bench, probably the luckiest the three had ever known. It was lucky because the bench was the place where the boys went for pain, for happiness, for healing, for love, and for things they needed.

And even on the darkest of days, the bench reminded the boys that they all had _each other._


	5. How Kendall Met Carlos

**A/N: **Okay, this is really short. I apologize for that. Since the Kendall Meets James chapter is the last, I promise it'll be lengthy and cute and happy and it'll top the series overall. I also apologize for not updating this so quickly. I'm so caught up in "Walk On" that I had to put this little baby on hold for a bit. Once this is finished, I'll start another piece, if "Walk On" isn't consuming a crapload of my time. Again, I apologize for the length. Not cool, Emma. _Not cool_.

I hope you like it, nonetheless. And please review. They make me feel confident and encourage me to keep on going. I love them and I love you if you've reviewed. I'd love you anyway. Emma, you bad girl.

Warning, I didn't really revise. Bad grammar/spelling errors most likely are there. I am fully guilty.

**Disclaimer: **I own only the story. If I owned the boys..._ Emma, you bad girl._

_

* * *

_

The forest was falling at the knees to the twilight of the evening. The full moon made the canopy of the woodland look blue and shuddered. The fluttering birds had been shaken by the vampire-scary bats. The squirrels chattering had been chased off by the owls hooting. The forest had metamorphosed into a single nocturnal entity, and left in the middle of it, Kendall sat, his paper bag folded nicely in his pocket, and his cheap, ghost-white, plastic Jason hockey mask nestled on the top of his head, ruffling his golden hair. It didn't matter, though, what color anything was. Color turned black and blue at the mercy of the moon.

It was Halloween, and Kendall sat, convincing himself he was unafraid. At a young eleven years old, Kendall knew in his mind that it wasn't in his reputation to turn down meeting his best friend, James, in the middle of the woods, at night, on Halloween, carrying nothing but a paper bag in his back pocket. Nothing scary at all.

Not for Kendall, at least.

"I'm _not _scared." Kendall heard a soft muttering. "I'm _not s_cared. I'm _not _scared."

As the sound grew closer, Kendall stood from his log, and approached a bit, slowly. "_Who-who's there?_"

"Ahh! Who are you?" The young boy screamed. As he came into the light, Kendall's fast-paced heart slowed to a patient beating, the boy being far shorter than he, and generally innocent-looking. He had caramel tan skin, most likely a Hispanic kid.

"Calm down, kid. What's your name?" Kendall questioned, taking his place back on his lazy log that night. The boy, too, looked much more relieved that Kendall didn't beat him with an angry fist.

"I'm Carlos Garcia. My friend James asked me to come here..." Carlos introduced. He had a sudden bright smile, broad and welcoming. "Who are you?"

"I'm Kendall. Kendall Knight. James asked _me _to come here." Kendall thought the idea through. "Come, sit. We'll wait for James. It's _totally _like him to plan a trick-or-treating night without telling the kids he's invited about each other. He's... high-priority like that."

"What does that mean?" Carlos smiled, laughing at Kendall's short summary about James.

"I'm not really sure." This caused Carlos to burst laughing, noticing that Kendall was wearing a plastic Jason hockey mask, a lot like the one he had on his head, clumping down his already flattened midnight black do. "I heard my mom say it. It sounded appropriate."

"You've got a Jason mask, too?" Carlos inquired.

"James has one, too. Apparently, he wanted us to match."

"Explains why we're only wearing Jeans and a white tee shirt." Kendall looked at Carlos's wardrobe, a pair of denim blue Levi's, matching white tee-shirts.

"He said something about bringing fake blood and squirting the shirts with them so it looks like we murdered somebody or something."

"That's like James." Carlos laughed. "It's nice to meet you, Kendall."

"Likewise, Carlitos." They extended a hand out in friendship, both taking a handshake with unity. The two began speaking with one another, dissecting their personalities, telling them about each other. They found that they had a lot in common, they made each other laugh, and that the six o'clock evening turned to eight, and James wasn't present. The two began to worry, and Carlos, being suggestive, began to hyperventilate. Kendall was worried for all three at this point.

* * *

A rustle in the bushes emerged after another half-hour of waiting for James.

"What if it's a bear?" Carlos cried, scooting closer to Kendall out of fear.

"The bears are secluded to a preserve. Same with wolves and lynxes and all of them. Naturally, owls, bats, squirrels, birds, etc, followed. Only a few of the small animals are out here. We're safe from animals, Carlos."

"What if it's a _monster?_"

"A _monster?_" Kendall almost laughed in Carlos's face. "There's no such thing as monsters."

"Then why did the bush rustle, then, Kendall, explain _that_."

"Natural thing. It's called the wind."

"How is the wind _natural _if there was no _breeze?_"

But suddenly, there was a terrifying roar that emanated from the bush, causing Kendall and Carlos to exchange a look of utter fear, a horrified scream, breaking the calm silence of the night, and a dash into the deeper parts of the woods. Where they were going to run, they hadn't a clue, but when they finally stopped and hid under a cave formed by a root, and an unfortunate indentation of the earth, they sat, kicked around for any obstacles, and hid. They saw nothing coming after them, nor did they hear the monster in the bush, but they were huddled and shivering, probably have shed their skin back on their sprint across the woods.

Kendall emerged first. He scoped out the area and found nothing, as he went back into the indentation in the dirt, sat, and flipped out his cell phone. The clock read 9:43. They had run for an hour, yet they hadn't broken a single sweat, and they were still shivering, shaking from the fear of their beastly pursuer.

"_Kendall_. I'm scared." Carlos admitted shakily.

"I am too, kid." Kendall leaned his head back against the dirt wall behind him. "It's okay, though. We're friends, and I've got your back one-hundred percent. We're going to get through this." Kendall began dialing rapidly, first his mother, then James. There was no signal out in Bambi's neighborhood. He didn't worry much about his mother, though, because she was out of town for the time being, Katie with her.

"C'mon, get up." Kendall ordered genuinely. "We're going to go find our way home."

"Worst Halloween ever." Carlos got up slowly and followed his fearless friend leader.

"_Agreed_."

The two walked off, following no real path.

* * *

By midnight, the two found their way back into the small community where they resided. On their walk home, the roaring creature disappeared, and Carlos and Kendall had gotten closer. They wouldn't ignore each other at school the next day like most people would have, especially after an adventure like theirs. Something inside them was grateful that they were scared witless that night. They wouldn't have been as close without this predicament they were in.

Walking down the sidewalk, finally in civilization, the boys began panting from their lengthy walk through the forest.

"First things first." Kendall said. "We check on James."

"_Good idea_." Carlos agreed almost instantly. There was now signal in the neighborhood, so Kendall began rapid-fire dialing James on his cell phone.

"Kendall? Is that you? Oh, my god, I'm _so _sorry, Kendall!"

"James, calm yourself, would you?"

"I'm sorry, _I'm sorry_!" James's voice sounded flustered and deeply sorrowed, although loud and demanding. Carlos could hear it, and it wasn't even on speaker.

"Just come downstairs and explain, okay? I'm with Carlos."

"Okay, I'll be right down." You could hear the rumbling of movement behind the door of James's household. Kendall and Carlos sat humbly at the porch seats. James burst through the front door quickly, a pair of blue jeans and white tee shirt wrinkled, as if he had been sleeping all night. His Jason mask sat comfortably on his head.

"James, are you alright? What happened?" Kendall and Carlos stood with urgency.

"It was me! I was the roaring sound, I'm sorry! I didn't know you two would run off! It was a prank, I'm sorry, guys, I'm really, _really _sorry!" James stammered quickly, tears filling his eyelids. He tried to bite back the tears forming in his eyes.

"That was _you_?" Carlos yelled, punching James in the arm. He gave James a momentary serious look, leaving the chestnut-haired boy dumbfounded and regretful. But when Carlos burst out laughing alongside Kendall, their sides splitting, James couldn't look more confused.

"What are you guys laughing about?"

"That was the funnest thing I've done in _forever._" Carlos got up by James's shoulder, pulling him into an embrace. A group hug soon formed, the three boys soon laughing the night away.

"Now what do you guys say we go to my house and eat the candy I was supposed to hand out and watch a movie that makes our brain scared?" Kendall laughed, knocking his friends away and starting down the porch.

"Okay." James and Carlos agreed, disregarding their parents' thoughts on being out so late.

The haunting darkness became a pleasant mystery, and the yellow burning eyes that watched them in the woods now danced around them, each a firefly with a story to tell. The cold of night became cool relief, and the owl's hoots that seemed to follow you suddenly became a song that you couldn't get out of your head. The chant of the crickets became the slow rhythm of the night. What was eerily quiet became harmoniously calm. What was negative became positive, and what was scary became lovely.

And it was no longer the worst Halloween ever.


	6. How James Met Kendall

**A/N: **So this is it for "When We Met," and I want to thank everybody for staying true and faithful to it as I wrote it. This here is the last chapter of the small series, featuring James and Kendall, everybody's favorite two. I have to focus on "Walk On" and "Runaway" now, and I urge you to read them. I find them very angsty and exciting at the moment. They're fun to write. Also, please stay true to "The Time When We" because that is a never-ending piece of work that I'll be using as a Big Time Rush one-shot archive. Thanks, again, and I love all of you who support/supported/will support this.

And if you liked these little one-shots, "The Time When We" has even more a lot like these, and I'm taking requests for them, so I'll gladly consider prompts through PM and reviews. For the last time, thanks for reading, folks! You guys were great!

(By the way, sorry if they sound a bit older than five years old, and I deeply apologize that it's not as long as I promised. It's cute, though, right?)

**Note: **Look out for my cameo appearance.

* * *

"Mommy," tugged a young, blond Kendall Knight at his mother's blouse, chewing on his fingers with anxiety. "Mommy, I'm scared," Kendall admitted, "I don't like school. I'm scared of it."

Looking down, Mrs. Knight gave Kendall a sympathetic grin. Kendall's face was pink with innocence, but below the surface of his dimples was a hotbed, fueled by fear. "You're going to make plenty of friends, babe. And you're going to have _so much fun_. There are building blocks, and plenty of toys, and you get to learn things every day so you can be smart!" She pinched her son's cheeks and fixed a lose bundle of flaxen hair that strayed from the others.

"Nobody likes me." Kendall looked down at his small, black sneakers, twisting his lips in remorse.

"Nobody knows you yet, babe," she stroked his hair tenderly, "but you'll introduce yourself, and then, everybody will know you, and I promise you that everybody will like you."

"_Everybody_?" He asked, disbelief in his tone.

"If somebody doesn't, you tell teacher," she directed with a wise finger in his youthfully glowing face, "but trust me. Somebody will be your friend. I guarantee it."

"But nobody," Kendall repeated slowly, "likes me."

Kendall looked out upon the classroom he and his mother approached. Low-surfaced desks with apple-shaped nameplate taped carefully on them. Kendall slowly let go of his mother's hand, wiped the saliva from his other hand, and walked around the half-empty room, searching for the nameplate with his name on it. Happening upon _Kendall Knight_, he hung his backpack from his seat, and sat down, crossing his fingers and waiting patiently for class to begin, for the first time in his young life.

* * *

It was during lunch when Kendall decided upon becoming a loner for the rest of his student career.

Sitting by himself, he unpacked the lunch his mother stuffed into a brown paper bag, and tucked into his pasta in a small container. The cafeteria was heavy with kindergartners and their premature rumor-sharing. _Johnny made a toot in class. I saw Natalie picking her nose, it was funny. I don't like green beans, they look like alien babies. _Kendall, though, sat and spoke with nobody, emptying his food containers, and packing them back into the small paper bag.

Having nobody to talk to made kids finish lunch earlier than they would have.

"I wana sit there." A voice barked from above him, the voice of a taller boy, with chestnut hair, and an aggravated look to his face. Kendall looked at him up and down, attempting to dissect what his terrible motives were.

"I was here first." Kendall barked back, planning on telling his mom he was right about school and that everybody in it were giant doody-heads.

"But I'm want to," the tall boy growled, "so move."

Kendall glared, before taking his lunch bag, clutched the paper with an angry fist, then bit back his insatiable rage. "_Fine_. I'm done."

"That's what I thought," he boasted, taking his seat. As Kendall descended to leave the lunchroom to play outside for recess, he could hear the boy proclaim, "my name is James and I tell people what to do."

* * *

The next day, Kendall again saw James at recess, sitting with a small CD player and singing to something that sounded like the lady singer who his mother listened to. Kendall idly bounced a kickball, stalking the asphalt like a lonely dreamer, much like James. Kendall grimaced at him, and to his misfortune, James had caught a glimpse of it.

Getting up quickly, Kendall knew he was in deep when James came his way with an angry demeanor. Approaching, he crossed his arms, attempting to look tough. "What're _you _looking at?"

Kendall gave James another grimaced look. Kendall was know infuriated with James's constant displays of manliness, none showing anybody he was tough. "_You_. But I'll look away before I turn to stone." Kendall had heard his older cousin, Emma, say something like that, and since he didn't know what it meant, he didn't have to stop himself from looking to proud when his insult had sufficed to make James as angry as he wanted.

"I'll punch you."

"Do it!"

Suddenly, the two were in a baby brawl on the surface of the asphalt, bruising each other's faces at a mere five years old. Before Kendall could determine who was winning, the two were already stopped and roughly pulled apart by their teacher, his strong arms restraining them from movement and stretching their tee shirts.

"He started it! He started it!" Kendall kept calling out.

"Did not! You did! It's all _your fault_." James retorted.

Mr. Wilson said nothing, and dragged the two boys into the principal's office, scabs, bruises, ripped hems, and all. The two sat still next to each other, crossing their arms and not speaking. At this point, the two hated each other.

"Your fault." James muttered to Kendall.

"Is not." Kendall muttered back.

"Is so."

"Says who?"

"Says _me_."

"You're _wrong_."

"No, you."

"Shut up."

"You first."

And their two-worded conversation lasted all afternoon.

* * *

The principal didn't instill too hard a punishment for the two boys, convinced that it was a mere fight between two young boys who would probably be best friends the next day, anyhow. They went to school the next day with bandages and angry faces, swearing vengeance at one another form across their small classroom. The girls eyed them curiously.

"I think you're tough." A pretty blond girl smiled and Kendall. He paid no mind, Kendall did, glaring at the long-haired boy. He wanted to wait until after school to settle things with James once and for all, one final good-bye punch to let the class know who's boss.

But it happened at lunch time.

Kendall was sitting in another corner of the lunchroom, having been booted from his public enemy on the first day.

And typically, "I wana sit there." James noted.

"Go away, James," Kendall grunted, "I gave you my seat yesterday."

"I don't wana. I wana sit there."

"_Sorry_."

James, inside, was beginning to lose it. With a twitch of an eye, he instinctively dumped chocolate pudding in Kendall's hair. Luckily, nobody was in the corner for them to pay too much attention. With an angry bolt, Kendall threw his peaches at James, who quickly dodged. As it landed on Jenny Tinkler, the boys snickered to themselves.

"Oh, you got her!" James chuckled.

"Right in her face!" Kendall began bursting out laughing, as the two found themselves ducking their heads into their lunches, wishing that nobody saw them. To their good luck, nobody did, and a young boy ended up proclaiming, "Food fight!"

Looking out upon the war going on before them, a mess of spaghetti and sandwiches, Kendall and James couldn't help but laugh hysterically, holding their sides, and leaning upon each other so they wouldn't hurl out vomit with their laughter. They were laughing together, suddenly united as one.

And when a milk bomb nailed both in the face, they shielded themselves from the chocolate shower, and laughed even harder than before.

"Hey, James," Kendall said through a panting voice.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry." This caused both to cease their laughter.

James gave Kendall a sincere look, then quietly admitted, "me too."

"Hey, wana go to the library?" Kendall asked excitedly, "I saw this book on hockey. We should play! You and me!"

James agreed excitedly.

And this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.


End file.
